


The Worst Duelist

by ArdentAspen2, Chess_Blackfyre



Series: Galahad Dulak: Space Doctor and Rare Emotionally Stable Jedi [10]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Gen, Humor, With maybe a touch of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:06:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24220108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArdentAspen2/pseuds/ArdentAspen2, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chess_Blackfyre/pseuds/Chess_Blackfyre
Summary: Galahad’s saber technique can best be described as: a birthday girl who just found out her parents are getting a divorce, with a lightsaber as her baseball bat and the world her piñata. Somehow, she makes it work.
Series: Galahad Dulak: Space Doctor and Rare Emotionally Stable Jedi [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664269
Comments: 32
Kudos: 106





	The Worst Duelist

**Author's Note:**

> So. This was an idea that I had that I think you'll really enjoy. Many thanks to ArdentAspen2 for helping me refine the idea

“The best swordsman in the world doesn’t need to fear the second best swordsman in the world; no, the person for him to be afraid of is some ignorant antagonist who has never had a sword in his hand before; he doesn’t do the thing he ought to.”

\--Mark Twain, _A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court_

* * *

Obi-Wan Kenobi knew this was a terrible idea.

When the Council first spoke of bringing the Corps into the war effort, the initial ideas were simple and sensible. Members of the MediCorps would be inducted as battlefield medics, Exploration Corps ships and their pilots re-purposed as long-range scouts, AgriCorps assignments prioritizing recently liberated planets, etc, etc. All ideas that made perfect sense.

Then someone had the bright idea to _arm_ the Jedi Corps. With lightsabers. Obi-Wan thought it was a ridiculous idea, and was sure the rest of the Council would realize that as well. They did not.

Most other masters chimed in agreement, and suggested that with such a change, the AgriCorps could perhaps act as a kind of reserve guard, acting as a line of defense for the planets in case the Separatists returned.

“Masters, if I may remind this Council that until this point, we have not allowed most members of the Service Corps to carry lightsabers?”

“Yes,” Master Tiin raised an eyebrow. “That’s why we need to send them to Ilum. To make one.”

Obi-Wan remembered that patience was the Jedi way. “That’s not the part I’m concerned with. Given as the Corps members would not have lightsabers, I would guess many of them are quite out of practice handling them.”

“A fair point,” Shaak Ti acknowledged. “Although, they did received the same weapons training that all younglings do, including the basic Shii-Cho katas.”

“Katas that, without a lightsaber, many of them may not have gone through in years.”

“There is something to be said for muscle memory,” Plo Koon reminds. “But Master Kenobi does have a point, it would be irresponsible to simply handout these weapons.”

“Thank you.” See? Someone was being sensible about this.

“Which is why we should also offer remedial lessons here at the Temple. Get them used to their lightsabers again before sending them out into the field.”

It seems he’s spoken too quickly. Also, by raising such concerns, the master of Soresu seems to have volunteered himself for teaching some of these remedial lessons.

Which brings him back to his current predicament.

When Galahad admitted that she had stolen a lightsaber from the Sith’s Tomb on Sarkhai--and really, why was he even surprised by that?--he hoped that meant that she would need the least guidance. Just a few pointers, then sent on her way. He was wrong. If anything, the opposite was true. Her Shii-Cho was serviceable, yes, but that was the best you could say about it. If he didn’t know any better, he’d be tempted to say that Galahad wandered in off the street and this was actually her first time holding a blade.

Watching her spar, Obi-Wan massaged a growing headache. 

Her stances had power, but little flexibility, and the Healer rarely utilized a consistent strategy. If anything it could be described as: hitting the target really _really_ hard from whatever angle she fancied. Obi-Wan couldn’t tell if Galahad was trying to exhaust or overpower her opponent, and wondered if she didn’t know herself. Her opponent, Roman Selis, was about two decades out of practice and had better technique than her.

Ducking and counter striking, he knocked her legs out from under her, winning the match.

“Nice job,” Galahad smiled, taking his offered hand and rising back to her feet. “Let’s try that again.”

The master of Soresu sighed. Galahad Dulak was, without a doubt, the worst duelist he had ever seen.

* * *

(Darth Balan, once Dark Lord of the Sith, could swear she could feel herself getting a migraine. Quite a feat for someone who was three thousand years dead, and therefore lacking a physical body.

  
“It’s not enough they gut one of my blades for spare parts,” she seeths, “but now she has to treat this one so _disgracefully!_ ”

Qui-Gon Jinn just indulged in a laugh. Gal always did like doing things her own way. )

* * *

Time passed, and Galahad did not improve as a duelist. Eventually, Obi-Wan just sighed, figured this was as good as she was ever going to get and sent her back to the 327th. She was a Healer, anyway.

To be fair, she had improved in some aspects. She actually excelled at deflecting blaster fire, and could send the bolts back with increasing accuracy. Put her up against droids, and she’d probably be fine. It was the person to person duels she seemed to have problems with.

But really, what were the chances of her attracting the attention of a Dark Sider?

* * *

Count Dooku raised an eyebrow at the sight before him. The Corps healer was holding a lightsaber with a gleaming yellow blade and a look of determination in her eyes. Was the Order truly so desperate as to allow anyone a blade these days? She was to “hold him off” while her pathetic clone soldiers made their retreat.

The master of Makashi had nothing to fear from her. The duel would be mere child’s play, boring really. He wasn’t wrong. But he definitely wouldn’t classify the duel as ‘boring’.

Instead of the acrobatics of Ataru, the elegant blocks of Soresu or anything else beside the rudimentary techniques of Shii-Cho, the Healer’s strikes and blocks were clumsy and unpredictable. But it was that unpredictability that threw him off. 

During the opening move, she was obnoxiously telegraphing going for a disarming strike, but when he moved to block she adjusted at the last second and tried to sweep her blade horizontally through his torso. That actually managed to throw him off guard for a moment--but he was too quick and too experienced, meeting her blade with his own.

Dear Force she was wielding her lightsaber like she was trying to bash his head in with it. The Count almost felt embarrassed on her behalf. 

“No, no, no!” Dooku chastised, pushing the girl away with a wave of the Force. “Wide sweeps are for multiple opponents, one on one you’re just leaving yourself open.”

(And with that, the old master felt himself slip into teaching mode swatting Dulak’s attacks away rather than seriously trying to kill or maim her.)

“You need to control my central line.”

“Are you trying to exhaust or disarm me, make up your mind.”

That was when Skywalker, ever the hero, entered the scene. Cutting his way out of the ventilation shaft above their heads, he kept down, coming between the count and the healer, blue saber matching red. Then a look of realization over the boy’s face “Wait, were you giving her _pointers_?”

Dooku scowled. “Her technique--if you could even call it that--insulted me as a duelist.”

* * *

Aayla raised an eyebrow as she entered the training area. “What are you doing?”

“Practicing!” Gal smiled, balancing on top of the balcony railing as multiple clones were firing at her. Weapons set to stun, obviously. The healer was almost making a show of it as she deflected the various blasts, keeping her balance and moving like an acrobat on a tightrope.

Seeing a dummy grenade lobbed her way, the Healer used the Force to catch it mid-air and send it back. Aayla could sense their mutual amusement as the squad scattered away from the ‘explosive’.

The Jedi Knight rubbed her forehead. “Alright, just clean up after you’re done.”

* * *

“There is no _style_ ,” elder Jedi and opponents alike sometimes fumed, “there is no _grace_.”

“Or maybe,” Gal occasionally replied, when she felt the need to, “I’m making my own style.”

* * *

Sooner or later, the 327th finally met the monstrous leader of the droid army. General Grievous, ever the coward, as attacking their left flank, while Aayla and Maris were leading the charge at their right. Here, there was no Jedi Knight to face him, and he could massacre the soldiers as he pleased.

There was nothing Galahad wanted more in that moment than to charge in and cut his head off--but she wasn’t stupid. Better duelists than her have tried, failed, and died going up against Grievous. If she was to be any help to her men, she needed to stay alive.

That was when the Healer had an idea. One that, when implemented, sent the cyborg fuming back to his own ship, carried back by two B-1’s and raving about wanting Dulak’s head on a spike.

* * *

“Come on, people, he’s not Force-sensitive. All you have to do is just rip the screws out of his wrists and ankles and boom! He can’t use his lightsabers!”

“Healer Dulak, with all due respect there is no way it could be that simple. Many experienced Jedi have died facing Grievous, and the fact that you survived your encounter is surprising.”

“Because I didn’t try to duel him, I just needed to _stop_ him. I swear all you knights have lightsaber-shaped blinders on.”

* * *

Galahad meets the twin blades of Asajj Ventress on Dromund Kaas.

Asajj was thrown for a moment, yes. Because how the hell do you anticipate the moves of someone who seems to just be swinging at random? But she swiftly takes the openings that Dulak all but hands her, and the woman is soon all but holding her off. 

The Dathomirian would claim that the only reason the Healer is still alive was because of the timely intervention of her pet clone troopers and Padawan Brood. But really, Asajj probably would have left her alive anyway, if only because hearing Dooku and Grievous bitch and moan about Dulak’s horrid technique and ‘dirty tricks’ was the most fun she’d had in months.

* * *

As she recovers from her wounds in the ruins of the Sith Empire, Galahad sleeps but does not dream.

Darth Balan’s memories once more come to her. She sees past battles from the Sith’s point of view, visions of war and bloodshed. Galahad does not know what the Force is trying to tell her--is it a reminder of the horrors of wars past? To not get too complacent? A statement that it’s okay if she’s not a talented fighter, if skill in violence could lead to such horrors?

It’s after the third night of such dreams that she finally figures it out. During battle in the very swamps of Dromund Kaas, the Dark Lord _throws_ her lightsaber at enemies, the red blade making a deadly arc as it sails through the air, slicing through bodies before returning to her hand. Galahad thinks to herself: ‘Huh, neat’, and feels such a sudden, warm rush of approval that it can only be intentional.

Great. So she’s such a horrible duelist the _Force itself_ was trying to give her pointers.

The Jedi teach that Galahad’s lightsaber was her life, and she should not be so careless with it. So obviously she needed to figure out how to do that immediately.

* * *

When the 327th burst through the enemy’s flank to provide the much-needed assistance, Galahad Dulak was perched on top of a walker, twirling her lightsaber.

“Hey boys!” She called out, getting Anakin and Obi-Wan’s attention. “Watch this!”

**Author's Note:**

> Darth Balan, materializing out of sheer indignation: “Child if you are going to use *my* kriffing lightsaber at least learn how to use it right!"
> 
> Galahad: “Buzz off you’re not my MOM.”
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this! After giving Galahad a lightsaber I was thinking about what style of combat she would probably use--then I realized that it would be absolutely hilarious if Gal was just. Horrible. Like "I'm pretty sure I know which end to hold" levels of horrible when it came to dueling. In her defense, she was too busy being a space doctor to keep up her sword practice.
> 
> Anyhoo, if you have any thoughts/questions/just want to transcribe your laughter, comment below and let me know!


End file.
